Strays in a Storm
by Casa Circe
Summary: During a storm, a wandering exile finds refuge in a cottage in the woods, which happens to be owned by a curious cat-girl.
1. Chapter 1

Surprising Shelter

NOTE: _Happy Birthday, Dilandau!_

 _I needed to keep up with my tradition of posting something on the birthday of my favorite character in Escaflowne. I had several ideas for this year but most of them seemed too dark, too complicated or too similar to previous entries._

 _And then, we had some really stormy weather recently and I decided to do something whimsical and slightly ridiculous. And with hints of my favorite Escaflowne crack ship. This is set post-series and where Dilandau is separated from Celena. That's all the setup you need, really._

 _This was really fun to write. If it isn't so blatantly obvious, this was influenced by Goldilocks and the Three Bears. And it's a one-shot for now, though there is some potential for future shenanigans. I haven't decided if I'll be going down THAT route, but this was just a fun process all the same._

 _Enjoy and please let me know what you think._

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The rain fell in torrents and it didn't seem like it would let up anytime soon.

The lone traveller was already soaked to the skin, his clothes having absorbed most of the typhoon's fury. It was one of the worst Gaea had ever experienced and he had the very good fortune of being exiled and on the road when the storm struck.

He had been wandering for days, colder and more miserable than usual, his own frustration matching the fury of thunder and lightning. But he could find no refuge anywhere. In the few remote villages he visited, he was refused any shelter, his status as an exile evident in his disheveled appearance even if the people did not recognize his face from the countless posters disseminated all over the world.

Former Zaibach soldiers were not welcome anywhere.

He knew as much, and exile was a truly miserable experience, but he still preferred it to death. Dilandau Albatou was struggling but he would survive, if only to spite his enemies.

But at the rate he was going, he would not be able to spite them for long.

He was drenched and hungry and bone-tired. He wasn't even sure where he was anymore, only that he was still walking in the rain.

After hours of wandering aimlessly through the woods of some unnamed country, he almost succumbed to his fatigue when he spotted a small cottage in the middle of a small clearing. He blinked to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating. But there it was, secure and seemingly deserted since there was no light in the windows.

With the last of his strength, Dilandau dragged his feet to the door and found that it was unlocked. He could not believe his good fortune, but knowing that luck could just as easily run out, he wasted no time making the most of it.

He entered the cottage, dripping onto the floor, and saw that it was indeed empty. It was a simple structure, sparsely furnished, with a kitchen, a small table with two chairs, a fireplace, and to one side, a bed. Simple but perfect for all his needs.

He immediately set about making a fire, and it did not take long for one to blaze in the hearth. Dilandau sat there for a few moments, warming himself and basking in the comfort of this surprising shelter.

He stripped himself of his wet clothes and hung them on a rack to dry by the fire. After checking the small chest of linens by the bed he found a warm woolen blanket that he wrapped around his shivering form.

He rummaged in the cupboard and found some dried meat and cheese, and he devoured both voraciously. There were also some tea leaves in a jar and he was tempted by the aroma. He found a kettle which he filled with rain water and then heated over the fire. He had never been much of a tea drinker, preferring the warmth of alcohol.

But under the circumstances, the prospect of a hot beverage was too tempting, and at length, he sat at the table, sipping a steaming cup of tea as he listened to the rain outside.

At length, his exhaustion got the better of him and he had just enough energy to drag himself to the bed, where he collapsed, wrapped only in the borrowed blanket.

He silently thanked whoever owned this cottage for their inadvertent hospitality. He knew that he could not stay for long, that the owner would surely return after the storm. The inevitable confrontation would probably not be pleasant.

But he would worry about that later. At least for now, he was warm and safe, and for the first time in ages, Dilandau Albatou fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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"I chose the worst time to go out exploring," Merle berated herself as she ran through the woods.

Her instincts had warned her that the weather would be terrible but she had been too curious, too restless to stay at home, in the comfort of the palace. She had had to be in the wild for some reason and now she was paying the price.

Her fur was soaked and she was shivering, despite the thick cloak she had put on when she left for her journey. She was hungry and tired, and she had no one to blame but herself.

"It's a good thing the cottage isn't far," she thought with relief.

She had had a small cottage built in the middle of the woods, a rest house of sorts, and a place of refuge whenever she felt like being alone in the wild. She had stocked it with necessities for just such an occasion and it wasn't long before she found her way to it.

The first thing she noticed was the light. Someone had lit a fire inside.

"I really should install some proper locks in that place," she reminded herself as she approached the cottage carefully. But she didn't dawdle since the rain continued to pour and she was eager to get into her warm shelter. She would deal with the intruder later.

She opened the door and immediately ran to the fireplace, warming her hands with a sigh of relief. She noticed the rack of drying clothes by the fireplace as well as an empty teacup in the small kitchen sink. She looked to the bed and saw a sleeping figure, wrapped up in one of her brown woolen blankets.

The stranger made no indication that they had noticed her arrival, probably because the crash of thunder and the pounding of rain on the roof had drowned out all other noises.

Slowly, carefully, Merle approached the bed and tried to get a good look at whoever had wandered into her rest house. And strangely enough, she almost didn't want to disturb the person's slumber, so peacefully did they lie on the bed. They had obviously sought shelter from the storm and she could not deny them that. She was more curious than afraid as she moved closer.

But when she saw the face of the stranger, she gasped audibly in recognition, her reaction drowned out once more by a crash of thunder.

Dilandau Albatou.

There was no doubt about it. The once fearsome Zaibach soldier, now a known exile, had found his way to Fanelia, to her special, secret spot in the woods. Fate had a twisted sense of humor.

Merle backed away in alarm, though it did not seem like he had heard her. She began to panic, to search the small house for a weapon and she bared her claws defensively. But her instincts told her that he posed no threat, and somehow, though her mind wondered at how she reached this conclusion, she was in no danger with him.

Once her initial shock and alarm passed, Merle noticed how different he seemed from the vicious Dragonslayer she remembered during the war. He was thinner, paler, gaunt even. Clearly, the harsh years of exile had taken their toll on him. And considering how horrible the weather had been for days, he was obviously exhausted.

But lying there, on her spare bed (such a strange image for Merle), he looked so…peaceful.

"How did you find this place, Dilandau?" Merle heard herself saying.

For a moment, the rain slackened and Dilandau heard the question. He looked up at Merle and if he was surprised to see her, he did not show it. He simply acknowledged her presence with a nod and then leaned back into the bed, pulling the blanket tighter around him.

"You can kill me now or just let me sleep," he muttered wearily, "Either way, I'm not leaving this bed."

Merle stared incredulously at him, unsure of how to react. But he seemed to have drifted off once more. So there was to be no violent altercation or struggle, at least not yet. And Merle sensed that even when the storm passed, both of them would be reluctant to engage in any unpleasantness. It just wasn't worth it.

The cat-girl sighed and resigned herself to her peculiar circumstances. She hung her wet clothes on the rack by the fire, and wrapped herself in another of her woolen blankets. In a way she was glad he had lit the fire before she arrived. It was almost as if the house had been prepared for her.

She hesitated at first and then shrugged, her fatigue overcoming her paranoia. The bed was wide enough for them both and for the moment, all she wanted was rest. She placed a spare pillow as a barrier between them though her companion did not stir when she climbed on the bed and lay down on the opposite side, facing away from him and willing herself to forget his presence as he seemed to be doing with her.

It was an extremely unusual situation.

But the storm raged on outside and they were both too tired to care.

"We'll figure things out in the morning," Merle thought as she pulled the blanket tighter around her and drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Strays in a Storm

NOTE: _Happy Birthday, Dilandau!_

 _I wrote this story to celebrate his birthday last year but I never really went back to it. It's not meant to be that long but there are still a few chapters left for me to enjoy and explore this forced proximity premise. I figured now's a better time than any to post another chapter so here it is. It's a bit heavy on exposition but better to get it out of the way as early as possible. More fun stuff to come_

 _Special thanks to konstantya for "voting" for this on Tumblr and because you and I love a good old forced proximity situation. Hope you like this._

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Merle watched him as he slept, marveling at his ability to do so despite the peculiarity of their predicament.

But she herself had managed to sleep for a few hours so she knew that they had both been too exhausted to care. The weather continued to be unpleasant and they were grateful to have found shelter from the storm. For the moment, their safety was not compromised although the cat-girl was not sure how long this would last, given the person who was sharing a roof with her.

Merle awoke first and she was immediately on her guard. But her companion remained lost in slumber, allowing her to observe him at her leisure, leaning over the pillow she had placed as a barrier between them and gazing at him curiously.

It had been years since the war had ended and Fanelia had recovered. She harbored no bitterness towards Zaibach. Too much time had passed to hold onto old grievances, no matter how heavy. She had chosen to direct her energy to more productive pursuits. But she had not forgotten who he was and what he had done. And she could not trust him.

He looked so peaceful that he almost seemed harmless. She knew that he was an exile and had been for years. Most countries in Gaea showed little to no sympathy for ex-soldiers of the Zaibach Empire and though asylum was sometimes granted, it was only given to a select few. And someone as recognizable as Dilandau would not be welcome in most places.

She wasn't sure about how he had been separated from Celena Schezar. Something beyond her understanding had taken place to split the two and Celena was finally given the chance of a life of her own. Dilandau had been subjected to a lengthy trial for his role in the war and had narrowly escaped being executed or imprisoned.

Merle wondered now if exile had truly been the most humane punishment.

She could not imagine what it must have been like for him to live on the road, wandering from place to place all alone, hated by those who recognized him. And as a soldier living in a time of peace, there was no place for him in the world, even if he had not been a part of the empire. When was the last time he had even slept on a proper bed? she thought.

He had disappeared from the public eye after the conclusion of the trial though Merle knew that Celena always had a general idea of his whereabouts. There was a connection between them that could never be severed. From what Merle had heard from conversations between Van and Allen, Dilandau had gone into hiding and had taken to discreetly moving from place to place to avoid capture or attack.

Many had not been satisfied with the sentence he received, particularly those who had witnessed the attacks he had made on their homes. He had enemies everywhere and he was too proud to seek protection with anyone and he believed himself completely without allies. So he chose to take a risky and lonely path.

Even under the blanket she could see the outline of his form. He was thinner than she remembered and his silver hair was nearly shoulder length. But he was as pale as he had always been.

And having seen the clothes drying by the fire she knew he was not wearing anything underneath the blanket. She blushed and chided herself for having such inappropriate thoughts. This only made their situation even more awkward. She could not let herself be distracted by such ridiculous ideas. She immediately lay back down on her side of the bed, pulling the blanket around herself tightly, trying but failing to ignore the mischievous notions entering her head.

.

.

.

Eventually, Dilandau awoke but he made no sign of leaving the bed. It took him a few moments to get his bearings and once he remembered where he was, he sighed contentedly and closed his eyes. He could sense the presence of the cat-girl beside him and he could almost feel her tension but he would not be bothered. He was determined to enjoy this rare moment of respite for as long as he could.

They remained lying there, both aware of the other's presence but determined to maintain their silence. Neither of them was sure of what they should say to the other.

The storm continued its rampage, leaving them with no recourse but to stay indoors. The noise of the rain on the roof was almost deafening.

There was ample time for either of them to plan their next move. They could fight, and he would probably win, even in his weakened state and even without any weapons. It would be feasible, even easy, considering he had regained some energy after his nap. But the prospect did not appeal to him.

He did not want to be left alone again.

No matter what, he owed her for her inadvertent hospitality and he knew that a tragic fate awaited those who harmed their hosts. For all his faults, he was not so dishonorable and he respected this unwritten rule.

He was surprised at her inaction, expecting her to have attempted something by now. But it seemed that she was more careful than she let on so he was determined not to let his guard down.

He had not recognized her when he first saw her. For a moment, he thought he had been hallucinating, seeing one of Folken's twins staring back at him. But then he remembered that Naria and Eria were long gone, and this cat-girl was of a different coloring. It was then that he recognized her as Van's constant companion.

But she was no longer a child. That had been the first thing that had popped into his head after he recognized her. Then it really began to sink in that several years had already passed since the war and since his exile. He was by no means an old man, but he definitely felt…older. And tired, so very tired.

Given the current climactic conditions, Merle would not be able to seek assistance outside so she would have to take her chances with him. And he was really in no mood for a fight. As awkward as the situation was, Dilandau found that he was simply grateful that she had not yet thrown him out. At least, she was not without compassion.

He was more comfortable than he had been in a while. For the first time in a long time, he had a roof over his head, with a fire burning nearby, and a soft bed to lie on. While life as a soldier in Zaibach had hardly been luxurious, he had been accustomed to a certain level of comfort, and one that he had not enjoyed for years. So recently he had learned to be more appreciative of any simple pleasures he could acquire.

So the first day passed in relative serenity. But they could not ignore each other forever.


	3. Chapter 3

Strays in a Storm

NOTE:

 _The timing is fortuitous since we've had some very storm weather for the past couple of weeks. So I decided to update this story today to celebrate Dilandau's birthday again._

 _I'm hoping I can update and maybe even finish this story by the end of the year but I don't want to make any promises. For now, I'm just glad I had the time and energy to post another chapter. We get to see a tentative truce form between these two as they wait out the storm together._

 _Happy birthday, Dilandau!_

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"Have you decided yet?"

Merle whirled around and looked at Dilandau. She had finally stood up to pour herself a cup of water and he had not stirred from the bed. She had not expected him to be the one to break their silence. But she had spent so much time rehearsing something devastating to say that he had beat her to it.

"Decided what?" she asked.

Dilandau sat up, the blanket sliding down his shoulders, and he faced her, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Whether or not to kill me," he replied calmly.

Merle stared at him incredulously. She had certainly not expected _that._ So she had no proper response but to gape at him for a few moments. But he held her gaze and after a while, she looked away uncomfortably.

"You're too morbid," she muttered.

He replied with a shrug and then lay back down on the bed and seemed to go back to sleep. Somehow this casualness infuriated Merle. How could he say something so controversial so suddenly and then leave it at that just as abruptly? Did he not find this whole situation extremely strange?

Did he not want to even talk about it? But then again, what really was there to talk about? Merle had no clue.

She glowered at him for a few more minutes but when he made no reaction, Merle sighed. She thought about what he had just asked her. Did he really think she was capable of killing him? Or perhaps that precisely the reaction he expected of anyone who crossed paths with him. After all, he was reviled almost wherever he went because of what he had done.

What a sad, lonely existence, the cat-girl thought as she took another glance at the figure lying on the bed and felt a smidgen of sympathy for him.

There was a crash of thunder and Merle flinched. She was not fond of such terrible weather. She glanced at her companion but he seemed unperturbed. Perhaps he was used to it all.

At length even he decided to leave the comfort of the bed. Merle was sitting at the small table, staring out the window, and she turned to face him. He gave her a glance of acknowledgment before pouring himself a cup of water and sitting on the chair opposite her. Neither of them said a word for a few moments.

After a few minutes, he stood and rummaged among his meager belongings. Merle watched him, alert, baring her claws just in case. But she had nothing to fear.

He simply brought out some dried meat he had in his bag and sat at the table again, biting a piece and chewing calmly. He tossed a piece towards her and the cat-girl stared at it suspiciously. He shrugged and continued to eat. Merle's growling stomach betrayed her and she reluctantly picked up the piece of meat and tentatively took a bite. It was tough and too salty, but still strangely filling.

"As soon as the storm ends, I'll be out of here," Dilandau said gravely, "And you will never see me again."

Merle frowned at him. "And what makes you think I'll let you stay until then?"

"Are you throwing me out now?" Dilandau asked.

"I would rather you not be here, if it's all the same to you," the cat-girl replied but not with much conviction.

"Are you throwing me out?" Dilandau repeated, his expression grave.

Merle said nothing but looked out the window.

The rain continued to fall in torrents around them and the wind blew violently against the small but sturdy structure of the cabin. Thunder crashed and lightning streaked across the sky. The weather was unforgiving and they both knew that. No one would last long out there without any proper shelter.

"I don't want to impose on you or to force any unwanted hospitality," Dilandau declared, "But I am not going out there, not again."

"You have a funny way of asking for help," Merle replied curtly.

Dilandau sighed. "I am at your mercy," he said simply, "If you will let me stay, I will sleep on the floor by the fireplace. As soon as the storm ends, I will never trouble you again."

This time, Merle saw a change in his expression, a kind of helplessness and humility. He was begging for her help and she could not find it in herself to refuse him.

"Let's hope the storm ends soon, then," she replied and she thought she saw him nod gratefully.

.

.

.

.

.

But the storm lasted longer than either of them anticipated so they had to learn to co-exist in relative harmony.

Fortunately for them both, the cabin was well-stocked and Dilandau himself had enough food to last for a week or two. They shared what little they had, and found that they could tolerate each other's company without much hardship. Neither of them would ever admit it but there was some relief in waiting through a tempest with someone else. While both were accustomed to solitude, this was not their preferred state.

They no longer shared the bed but Merle had given her strange guest enough blankets to keep him comfortable by the fireplace. He did not complain and was undoubtedly relieved that he was able to remain in the shelter with minimal conflict. The subject of whether or not Merle would kill Dilandau had been completely forgotten and it was clear that he would not fight with her either. After all, if either of them had ever meant to harm the other, they would have done so already.

They did not speak much but they found that neither of them enjoyed complete silence. When they exhausted the topic of the weather, they tried to find other mundane things to talk about. But eventually, even the mundane seemed maddening to talk about and they turned to topics they had initially avoided, like the past. Merle noticed that Dilandau never asked her about her life though she was not sure this could be attributed to complete indifference. She sometimes sensed that he was even slightly envious of her relatively normal circumstances while his situation was so volatile.

More often than not, she asked the questions and it surprised her whenever he deigned to answer.

"What happened to you and Celena Schezar?" Merle asked once.

"I couldn't explain it even if I wanted to," Dilandau replied, "We have our own lives now and that is as it should be."

"Do you ever think of going back to Zaibach?"

"You know as well as I do that there's nothing to go back to. And I have no intention of returning to a wasteland."

"So, what are you planning to do?" Merle asked with genuine curiosity.

"What do you care?" Dilandau retorted, "I told you before, you won't see me again after all this."

"Well, how can I be sure?" Merle teased, "You wandered into my cabin by chance. How do I know you won't end up here by chance again?"

Dilandau quirked an eyebrow at this. Merle was surprised at the lightheartedness of her tone.

"I was thinking of taking a ship and sailing far away from here," he said somberly.

"Where would you go? Daedalus? Cezario?" Merle asked.

"Away from Gaea if I could," Dilandau admitted, "There's nothing left for me here. Only a past full of painful memories and an uncertain future."

Merle looked at him sadly and when he noticed her sympathetic expression, he looked away and said nothing. The cat-girl could not think of any appropriate response to this so she stayed silent as well.

"It doesn't matter," Dilandau muttered and then sat by the fireplace, wrapping a blanket around himself and staring at the dancing flames.

Merle knew better than to pester him when he was in such a mood. She had also noticed how much comfort he took from the fire, how he always seemed, "happy" was not exactly the word she would use, but content. He rarely seemed more at peace than when he sat by the fire.

There were moments when she was even tempted to sit beside him, but she did not dare. Distance must be maintained. They tolerated each other well enough for now because that was necessary. But while Merle was willing to explore their tenuous connection, she was not sure that her companion felt the same.

Besides, the rain would eventually stop and then, they would part ways for good. There was nothing more to it, Merle told herself and she wondered why she wasn't looking forward to the storm ending as much as she used to.


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